The wind swept through the valley, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the subtle hum of Qi. Han Jae-min and Eon-hwa had been training relentlessly since their encounter with the Iron Viper Sect. Twin Fang had become sharper, more fluid, and his Qi control had improved—but Murim had a way of testing even the most skilled.
From the eastern ridge, a lone figure appeared: a young swordsman with midnight-black hair and piercing silver eyes, moving with effortless grace. His presence radiated power far beyond his apparent age. Murim called such warriors prodigies—swordsmen destined to climb the hierarchy quickly, often surpassing entire sects in skill.
"Han Jae-min," the youth called, his voice calm yet commanding. "I am Kwon Jae-hyun of the Crimson Wolves Sect. Word of your Twin Fang has reached even my ears. I've come to see if the rumors are true."
Jae-min narrowed his golden eyes, gripping his dual katanas. Kwon's Qi was sharp, precise, and controlled—a clear sign of prodigy-level cultivation. This was more than a duel; it was a lesson in Murim hierarchy, a test to see where he truly stood.
The clash began with a flurry of strikes, both sides moving like blurs. Qi flared from their blades, shimmering in arcs of gold and silver. Twin Fang met Kwon's unique technique—a combination of rapid thrusts and spinning slashes powered by refined internal energy. Sparks flew, the forest around them trembling with every impact.
Despite his skill, Jae-min found himself on the defensive. Kwon's speed was unnatural, and his strikes seemed to anticipate Jae-min's movements. He realized a harsh truth: skill alone could not win against a true prodigy. Strategy, adaptability, and deep Qi mastery were equally crucial.
Drawing on his internal energy, Jae-min unleashed an enhanced version of Twin Fang. Qi surged through both katanas, creating a golden afterimage as he moved. The strike connected, forcing Kwon back—but only briefly. The prodigy grinned, clearly impressed yet unfazed.
"Not bad," Kwon said, wiping a trace of sweat from his brow. "Your Qi is raw, but your instinct is sharp. With proper training… you might become a formidable force in Murim."
The duel ended without a clear victor. Jae-min's arms ached, his breath ragged, but his mind burned with clarity. Murim was not just about winning—it was about measuring one's place in the hierarchy, learning from rivals, and adapting to survive.
As Kwon departed, Jae-min and Eon-hwa stood silently, feeling the weight of what had just occurred. Prodigies, hidden dragons, Supreme Masters—the Murim world was layered, dangerous, and full of opportunity. Every encounter shaped reputation, alliances, and future power.
"We need to keep improving," Jae-min said, sheathing his swords. "Murim has far greater threats than what we've faced. Every duel, every skirmish… it's a lesson."
Eon-hwa nodded, his own Qi glowing faintly. "Then we train harder. Gather allies. Understand the factions. And one day… perhaps our names will be the ones whispered across Murim."
The mountains seemed to stretch endlessly before them, each ridge hiding unknown rivals, secret sects, and legendary masters. Han Jae-min's journey was only beginning—and the path from skilled swordsman to legendary sect leader would be paved with blood, discipline, and unyielding ambition